Alive With the glory of love
by Rebel spoon
Summary: So with an empty heart I slam my shovel into the wood, it splinters and makes a sound much like my boot crunching thousands of bones beneath it. The sight i see below starts my heart beating.... A ww2 ChristopheXKyle fic! Its better inside!
1. Chapter 1

(**This is my first story, don't make fun of me....also sorry if Christophe seems a little OOC!)**

Chapter 1

My name is Christophe Delourn. I am part of the French army….currently my homeland France is being occupied by the Germans, so anyone IN the army who was or is still stationed in the country has now been turned over to the German leaders. Meaning MY new job is hunting for Jews still in Paris. I do not enjoy my job, but in order to keep the peace between France and Germany I must do as I am told. That is all it is…an order.

MY story starts with me standing in front of a thick wooden door to a torn up apartment in the middle of my home town Paris. A cigarette hanging in my mouth, unlit so not to tip off any Jews who might be hiding, and a shovel in my hand. Slowly I inch closer to the door, pressing a tanned ear to the wood listening to any sounds that might single to me that there was indeed something inside. I listen closely, a single scratching noise alerts me to the possibility of what could be inside. I quickly press my shoulder against the door and shove hard, the wood splinters off the hinge as I force myself inside, where I am greeted by a cloud of disturbed dust and something like a sharp intake of breath.

The intake of breath sound interests me, so I hold still listening. The cigarette still hanging tightly between my lips as I close my eyes and listen, I can hear breathing... The German general in control of my troop tells us to quietly sneak into a suspected hide out. He says this because he believes the Jews to be 'beast' and everyone knows beast attack when scared….I think my approaches is better. I KNOW better, Jews are people, HUMMANS, and when humans are scared they make little sounds. These sounds can give away the location of any hiding man, woman, or child….

So I listen, and I slowly and surly walk towards the site of the sound. Opening my eyes I look down, seeing nothing but floor board and I KNOW. I KNOW there is a jew sitting under there, praying to his god that this scary man just passes him by. That perhaps he or she will be safe for….just a little longer. But we both know I will be their death. So with a empty heart I slam my shovel into the wood, it splinters and makes a sound much like my boot crunching thousands of bones beneath it. And hell, I almost feel poetic about the sound….I continue to chip away at the floor until I have a hole, big enough that even I could fit through.

Once I had such a hole, I grab a lighter from my breast pocket, quickly dropping the now sagging and useless cigarette to the floor. Then I lean my head lean in closer to the sounds of heavy breathing, and finally I light the god damn contraption. But….what I see was nothing like what I've seen before…Normally the eyes that I meet in the darkness are dead….They see me and cry, pleading for life yet their eyes hold no hope. Nothing, just empty orbs of color….That is why I felt no guilt in ending their lives. It was because we BOTH knew that there was no way for them to become safe…But THESE eyes…..

These eyes were a bright green when the light of my flame passed over them. They showed fear, yes, but they also showed hope. Hope that perhaps, this man standing above him in his dirty uniform, untrimmed brown hair would save him. Not destroy him…that….it almost scared me, I took a step back though still staring down into the dark cave like area that the Jews created. My eyes passed over the rest of the person's face…its skin was pale and dirty…but even through the dirt I could see freckles littering the skin. Its hair was a dirty and matted, but I could tell at one time it was curled and instead of the dirty orange color it was now… it was a beautiful red color that complemented the bright green orbs.

Just…Just this creatures face was enough for my heart's pace to miss a beat. I continued to stare as if stuck in some trance, I notice the little Jew (Boy? Girl? They were to skinny, and their clothes to ragged and baggy to tell!) huddled against one of the walls. Its eyes never leaving my own…

I wish we could have stayed there, ignoring the war all around us…instead just staring at each other….One in fear, the other in astonishment. But! It could not be, because at the door I heard one of my brothers in arms say something. I did not understand at first but I quickly snap my gaze from the hole, flicking my lighter closed and once again giving the darkness back to the Jew creature.

"Bonjour Christophe! Did vous find anyzing?" My brother in arms asked almost cheerfully. He stepped into the apartment with a distasted look on his face as eyes swept over the ground. He sighed and kicked a piece of forgotten cloth out of his way before he got to the middle of the room.

"Non. I did non find anyzing mon ami, 'ave vous?" I ask, turning away from the hole and looking fully at my 'brother'. I know I disobeyed an order….I know this could potentially kill me…but…those haunting eyes….they do not leave my mind even as I lie to my countrymen. He just chuckles, none the wiser to my lie. Why should he be anyway? ME, Christophe, his ally in the hunt for Jews… Shaking his head slightly he makes a move to come closer, only being stopped when he sees my glare through the darkness.  
"Oi? But…I…zought I saw vous's light…eh…oh well…so wut es in ze 'ole over zere?" He asks, now acting like I am hiding something...that BASTARD. Is this what the Germans have taught us? To act like this, Even to our own!? Does he not know we have been destroying REAL people!? He…is not French anymore…we are proud…we do not enjoy destroying the lives, we just do as we are told….

Sighing slightly I shake my head as if to seem annoyed. "Ah! I zees a chat! Eet looks so pitiful I must 'ide eet from vous. I am sorry, but you understand oui?" I laugh heartedly, no doubt the Jew I am hiding is scared. Instead of ONE Frenchmen here to kill him, there are now two. Oh, I can just picture those green eyes, wide with terror but unable to pierce the veil of darkness that stands behind him and his could be murderess…

My brother just chuckles and makes a mocking cat noise. "Oho!! Ze mole 'as a 'eart!? 'o knew!! Do non worry I will non tell anyunz! Feed vous chat and come. Eet es time for ze general to give us our new orders." He laughed, drawing his arm out in a becoming gesture as he left the , as if telling me if I stay the suspicion will once again be brought up.

I politely decline the offer to leave with him, and slowly make my way back to the Jew's cave. I dare not light my lighter, incase my brother in arms is not gone…Instead I kneel, hoping to see the beautiful green eyes once again… "Silly Chat….stay zere…'ave zis food…." What else should I say…?

I…was sent here to KILL this thing…..what could I possibly say to calm it? Though I know I must say something… "…..Eet will be o-kay…zere will still be 'ope." I mumble low under my breath and dig around for some bread. Upon finding some I toss it out into the darkness and stand up to leave. As I being my walk to the busted door I hear a small sound, almost above a whisper.

"Pardon petite Chat?" I call gently, this time I listen.

"T….t-thank…y-you…" The voice whispers, its voice cracking as if not used in days….at the sound my eyes widen and then soften at the darkness….and I turn to take my leave. Each step I take my heart feels a little lighter, but my brain feels heavy. Why did THAT Jew make me feel guilty about all the others? Was it because of those EYES? Or….or was it the fact that…that person had such …HOPE…? That's…

Right….

That was a person down in that hole…Not just another order…The realization was enough to make my stomach feel sick as I meet up with my fellow brothers in arms.

"Come noa brothzers! Let us get out of 'ere! Eet smells like sheet!" One calls and they all laugh heartedly, I must as well…because this is my orders, and I must…as i must will all orders...

**SO! What did you think?**

**Rating and reviews are much loved!  
**


	2. Boot stomp medows

I now lay in my bunk staring at nothing but the blackness of the night in front of me. It has been hours since I saw the Jew creature and yet my mind still wanders back to that hole in the wooden floor and those gorgeous green eyes that stared at me like I was death. And I should have been that Jew's death, but something stopped me from fulfilling my orders….this…bothered me. I am a proud Frenchman. I follow my orders as I am told, I pray to a god I do not believe in…I am a soldier made for nothing but bringing the end to the enemies of my countrymen and women. So…why could I not take my shovel and end that one person's life like I have to any others of mankind before?

I can not help but to contemplate this as I turn to my side, feeling the discomfort of the wool blankets scratch against my bare chest. I close my eyes, sighing once as I bring a calloused hand up to my steel dotages, calmly I begin running my thumb over the raised words. Some men have pictures of their families, I have these. Slowly my mind once again brought back to the Jew, is this how he felt? Trapped in the darkness all around it, nothing for comfort…but…I have comfort, though not much. The Germans may not kill our troop, but they have done their best to make us nothing but hunting dogs. Our bunks are just thick scratchy blankets rolled out on straw beds. Nothing but that.

Our food is nothing but what we ourselves can make, this does not bother me as it does the other men, but the thing that bothers us ALL is the fact we can not see our families. We are nothing but hunting dogs searching for rats. Nothing more, nothing that needs to be trained, nothing that needs to be taken care of…just…dogs.

This irritates me to no end. We are not just shitty dogs, we are MEN. More so then those fat Germans that command us. Who never lift a finger but instead let us get the blood on our hands and our souls. Opening my brown eyes I sit up in a hurry. There is something I must do. Something that will NOT flow orders, but seeing as I already have thrown away my collar and leash so to speak why not go all the way?

Quickly and quietly I shuffle out of my bed and grab for my dirty shirt, pulling it over messy thick brown hair and dropping to my knees. Like I said before, I am not a religious man, nor have I ever been. So as I kneel I am NOT praying as any onlookers would believe, instead I run a hand under my blankets and shift through the straw for something. See, here in our bunks we hid things from the Germans, since they believe us to dumb to do such. Most men hide bibles, photos. I hide clothing, money, and food.

Which brings me to my stupid, and quite possibly suicidal, idea. Grabbing a knapsack we use to carry our supplies for our hunt I stuff a bag shirt, pants, and a few chunks of bread inside before quietly and quickly walking out of the door. Thankfully I never see the whites of anyone's eyes as I sneak off the base, through the thick brush and into the main city. Closing my eyes I take a deep breath of air not stale of men's sweat, and blood. Sure, it is not fresh as the mountain air my mere took me too, but it is good. Very good, so with a small smile I take off walking towards the buildings marked to be 'rat clean'.

It takes me what I believe an hour to get to the same building I was in before. Crawling through barbwire fences, through boot stomp fields where the German's practice marching, only to appear at a broken cobble street with looming buildings in front of my eyes. I know I am here, here with the green eyes 'beast' that lives beneath the floor boards and crawls into my every thought.

With out looking back I enter one particularly run down brick building that I was in earlier today. Careful not to trip over the many hazards around, flick my lighter open and surrounding the inside with a warm glow of light. Listening quietly I hear the faint sound of sleep breathing, and I release a breath I had not know I was holding. Carefully with eyes downcast I creep my way towards the sound of the breathing, this all becoming deja vu in my mind as I carefully inch closer and closer to the hole. Upon feeling the edge with my boot I crouch low, shining the light into the hole and just catching the glance of a baggy piece of material.

Now to put my suicidal plan into motion. With out a sound I jump down into the hole, feet thumping against the dirt at my landing, no doubt signaling the green eyed person from his slumber. I hear a loud yelp and I quickly reach a hand out, feeling my rough fingers brush across bare skin as I grab hold. Pulling towards me and forcing the body to the ground. I hear crying now, but I do not care. This is to help, I assure myself as I pin the too thin body against the dirty floor beneath us. Hand pressed against the person's shoulder, I use my other to flick the lighter. Was this even the right Jew? But as the light flashed on and illuminated the person's body I knew right away, there were those green eyes. Instead of the calming look I saw before, I see pure terror, tears, and pain. Still I do not let up and I begin to uses the pinning hand to slide the loose shirt above the Jew's head.

Unsurprisingly I see bones sticking out from where there should be none, I see blemishes no doubt gained from the hard wood this person must have to had cuddled against at any unknown noise. But…under the caked dirt, the bruises and scratches I see freckles. Tones of them, and it almost made me want to stop my personal mission and count each one, drag my fingers over and connect the dots like one of those old child games. Shaking my head I pressed finger tips against the first rib.

I could feel the heavy breathing, the pounding of the heard beneath me, and the trembling from the thoughts of me. I could FEEL the fear in the air as those green eyes stared up with tears unwilling to spill past their pale lids. I try and ignore the stares as I slid my fingers over each rib, checking if they are broken. None are, but I do notice how unusual it is that the skin is so soft. With a slightly confused look I tilt my head to the side, keeping my palm flat against the skin, feeling the heart beat quicken then slow down.

"Non are broken. Vous are safe, I will non 'urt vous.." I mumble in my raspy voice trying to give some sort of comfort to the….well damn…seems this creature pined to the floor is a boy. Slowly, adverting my eyes I pull off the pants the boy is wearing. Only to earn a loud sob and a quick jerk of his legs, no bout to try and kick me away. Growling slightly I use one of my hands to pin down his legs, please, like I have not seen a naked man before…Sighing I raise one of his legs, looking them over and feeling if there were any brakes there.

Nothing, good…..this made everything so much easier. Slowly I let go of the jew, to which he quickly darted back against the wall. Sobbing and trembling so much I could have sworn he was a little kitten. Already I am sick of the violated look he keeps giving me, so I rummage through the knapsack and pull out the clothing I managed to hide away.

"'Er, wear zem. Keep vouself warm." I mumble leaning against another wall and tossing the rags to the Jew. They were worn down, but still warm. Much better then the scraps he wore before, and I see him in the dull light of my lighter quickly put them on. His sobbing continuing as I watch. I begin to wonder how much kindness he has been shown…from what I see…none.

Once the boy calmed down, which to me took around half an hour of time, he beings watching again. Watching my hands move, watching me rummage through my sack. Though if I move to quickly he would shrink away, holding the clothing to his skin. I then lift my hand and show no weapon and he is once again watching my movements.

After another half hour of time, I begin bring out the food out, holding it out. To which he grabs it and quickly shuffles away, again….like a small kitten. I smile softly as I watch him eat. "es zat good…? Moi name es Christophe…Wut es vous name.." I say gently, keeping my distance.

He looks up, wide eyes, bread still hanging around his lips as he speeks. "M-My name…I-is…..K-Kyle…K-Kyle Broflovski…" He says in a very timid look, and I am mildly shocked.

He….he speaks so well….so…gently…. And…then he smiles.

Something I'd never suspect…

He smiles at ME, his death…

His new savore…

And….and I smile back.

"Bein…to meet vous…Kyle…" I say gently, a small smile plastered on my own face.

That's when I believe…

I started to love this timid, small pale creature.

* * *

**So!! I forgot to mention! This is for my lovely twin friend Chaos Choir!! 3**


End file.
